


Familiar

by CZD



Series: Sensory [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 4th of July, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Steve Rogers loves Bucky Barnes, civil war spoilers, kind of anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6944281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CZD/pseuds/CZD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve catches whiff of something he shouldn't. </p><p>Inspired by the sense of smell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> Want to know how fluffy this is? Google image search "Samoyed dog". Then imagine three of those. That's how fluffy this goddamn one shot is.
> 
> Also don't @ me regarding a certain fruit and the psychology behind it because I already know I'm trash and I hate myself.

\----

There were few things that Steve Rogers liked the smell of. Given his superlative senses, courtesy of the super soldier serum, his senses were originally in such a state of overdrive, that they were heavily impacting his performance. Alongside his lack of coordination when he chased the rogue Hydra agent through Manhattan, Steve's senses were sending him down a wild path, where every sound was like a crashing in his ears, and every smell was intensified ten-fold.

So when Howard offered to help, he was more than ready to control his senses. The training was rigorous - Howard had enlisted Peggy's help, which only made it even tougher - but eventually Steve was able to control his senses so he could heighten them as and when he needed. A blessing, really, in disguise.

But Steve was never fond of many scents to begin with. Perfume was always too flowery, sewage too sour, and not to mention the smell of sweat as it permeated the streets of a New York summer - and this was all before the serum, when he was scrawny and thin.

There was only ever one smell he truly enjoyed, pre- and post-serum. It smelled musky, yet subtle, like slightly burnt plums, yet still pleasant, and all the while, exuding a sense of warmth and care that, as soon as it wafted through his nose, made him feel content and at ease. It was only when he became Captain America, all senses overdriven and working overtime, that he realised what that smell was.

James Buchanan Barnes.

It dawned on him when they had returned to camp after escaping Hydra, and he and Bucky were alone. The smell of musk and singed candles rang through the air, and when Steve realised he and Bucky were the only two in the medical tent, he knew just one thing - that was his favourite smell, and he would always know that that was his Bucky's scent, no matter where they were.

When the Winter Soldier seized Washington, and his mask fell off, Steve recognised the striking eyes and face of his friend, but had hoped it wasn't true. As soon as the breeze carried the man's scent through the air, however, and Steve took whiff of that familiar smell, he knew the man in an instant.

When he went to Bucharest to retrieve the seemingly clear headed Bucky from being captured, and he stepped into the man's apartment, that familiar scent drenched the walls and fabrics. When the man was secured in a vice, the smell rang through the air, reminding Steve of all those years before the war, his best friend by his side.

He could smell it everywhere they went together. To the market, to the training bay, on the Quinjet, in the Wakandan complex. It was intoxicating to Steve, and became like a drug. He would tuck handkerchiefs in Bucky's uniforms and clothes, and expertly remove them and keep them as reminders when they were apart. He would inch closer and inhale deeply when they sat on the couch, or when they consulted with the doctors and scientists. Whether Bucky noticed or not, Steve had no idea. All he knew was that he could inhale that beautiful scent over and over again until he passed out from erratic breathing.

So imagine his surprise, one heavy day in July, when his head snapped up. The air conditioning was keeping the building temperate, but it carried something in the air. Steve inhaled deeply.

Musk. Plums. Candles.

He stood up swiftly, and powerfully made his way to the room where the scientists were keeping Bucky's cryogenically frozen body in stasis. The door wooshed open, his breathing heavy, to find the entire room empty. No scientists, no doctors. 

No Bucky.

Then, the smell hit him again. His head turned back to the windowed corridor, overlooking the Wakandan landscape, and he inhaled deeply. He turned to his left, the way he came, and began to follow the scent, like a rabid hunting dog after its kill.

As he continued down the corridor, the smell intensified, and so, too, did Steve's walking, until it was a near jog. He continued down the corridor even further, until suddenly he was in front of his own quarters, the one room that was only accessible by him, courtesy of a key card provided by T'Challa, which was sitting nuzzled in his jeans pocket.

Tentatively, he swiped the card. As soon as the door opened, the smell of Bucky crashed into Steve's nose like a wave filling his body with warmth and familiarity. The smell was so intense that Steve had to close his eyes when the molecules hit his nose, the intensity sending warm shocks down his spine.

When his nose finally adjusted, Steve slowly opened his eyes, to see a long haired brunet standing there, less than a foot away from his face.

Bucky.

"Bucky, what are you...?" Steve began, but Bucky put his finger to his own lips, shushing the blond haired man.

"I asked them to wake me up for one thing," Bucky replied, smirking at the younger blond man, who responded with a quizzical look.

Suddenly, Bucky then closed the gap between the two men, gently pressing his lips against Steve's, wrapping his hand around his waist and pulling him in close. He ignored the protruding bulge in the other man's groin, smiling into the kiss as they reconnected their bodies for the first time in months. 

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, his eyes and mouth smiling at his best friend and lover. Steve stared back into Bucky's eyes, the faintest blush on his cheeks, his baby blue eyes glimmering in confusion and happiness simultaneously. 

This time, Steve closed the gap, and held the kiss for even longer than before. He ran his hands through Bucky's hair, releasing that intoxicating scent into the room again in a wave of olfactory pleasure that cleared Steve's mind of everything except for what was happening right now, in the doorway of his quarters.

They broke apart, and Bucky resumed his playful smile, and drew Steve into a close hug, his arms wrapping around the other man's back.

"So what exactly are you doing here, Bucky?" Steve asked. Bucky stroked Steve's back with his thumbs, and he chuckled softly.

"You know, for sure a smart man, you really are sort of oblivious," the man replied, and Steve pushed him back slightly, shooting him an annoyed, if not still confused, look.

"Well, if you must know, I asked them to wake me up for a specific day, and only that day. Because you see, it was very important to me, and it was important I was awake for it," he said, as Steve's eyes searched his. Bucky laughed. By now, Bucky's scent clung to the air like an aromatic room fragrance to Steve, relaxing the man, his emotions at a peak level of happiness as his lover gripped him with his strong hands.

"I had to wake up to wish the man I loved a happy birthday, didn't I?"


End file.
